


Stuck To You

by Suaine



Series: Slice and Dice [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-20 00:32:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suaine/pseuds/Suaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A snippet for the 30 Day OTP challenge, the prompt was "holding hands".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stuck To You

Stiles was basking, just a little, in the fact that he had been entirely and 100% right about the latest supernatural fuckery in Beacon Hills. He tapped gleefully on Derek’s thigh because that was the only bit of his ever-grumpy werewolf buddy he could comfortably reach, what with the magical handcuffs and all. They were tied together and hooked into a very sturdy looking metal ring on the floor.

“I’m not saying it, Stiles.”

Regular disappearances had lost their novelty about five months back, but usually there were bodies to account for and this time, there just hadn’t been any trace of the missing. And then there’d been the fact that most of the kids had been known monsters, supernaturals, or your garden variety superhuman freaks. Stiles had seen that movie. And read the comic. And the novel. There really was only one possibility.

“We are not in an episode of Star Trek,” Derek grumbled.

Stiles jiggled the handcuffs. “One, I think your super rich and/or alien zoo keepers would beg to differ. And also, please tell me you saw the original pilot, because I will never, ever, ever let you call me a nerd ever again either way, but you have to have seen the gloriousness of Number One.”

Derek flexed his ridiculous muscles in lieu of an answer and accomplished nothing, unless his plan was to jerk Stiles’ arm out of its socket for funsies. “We have to get out of here.”

“Yes, thank you for that observation, Captain Obvious.”

“Stiles,” he grumbled, except Derek had this kind of nasal whine thing going on that no one ever believed, not even the people who actually had heard him do it a hundred times. It was one of his best features, if you asked Stiles. Derek was a huffy, sarcastic, prissy princess of an alpha werewolf and that more than his surprisingly deep hazel eyes or his amazing physique or the way he tried to be good against all odds was what made Stiles fall for him.

Okay, no, it was any of those things, probably. All of them. Whatever, the point was, magical handcuffs. “Our friendly neighborhood wolfnappers are not going to be happy when they realize I’m just some pathetic human, you know.”

“They won’t hurt you,” Derek said as if he believed it.

Stiles rolled his eyes at the wolfy bravado. “Oh yeah, and why is that, Cassandra?”

Derek sighed and twisted again, his whole body shifting so that his hand was pressed palm to palm with Stiles’ and his mouth was close enough to Stiles’ ear for him to feel the draft. “Because I won’t let them.” Okay, that? That was a real growl at the end there, the deep rumble that sounded nothing like a wolf, more like an amorous gorilla.

He would have said something flippant, but he was too busy leaning back and tangling their fingers together. “As much as I appreciate the ‘we’re about to die’ flirting, maybe we should think of something a little less Joan of Arc and a little more Hermione Granger.”

“You’re not the smartest witch of her generation,” Derek huffed, and Stiles could hear the laughter underneath the indignation.

“No,” he said, grinning. “Trust me, close your eyes.”

“What-“

“I’m about to Seamus Finnigan these handcuffs like a-“

“Stiles!”

+

The explosion was surprisingly surgical, all things considered. There were burn marks all over his arm and Derek was glowering down at where their hands were still connected, black veins pulsing all up Derek’s wrist as he took Stiles’ pain.

“So,” Stiles said, “about this last minute flirting… can we do the ‘yay we’re alive version’ now?”

Derek, ever the fearless leader, stared like a scared little bunny would stare at the big bad wolf. Heh, role reversal for the win. Point to Stiles Stilinski, freaker-outer of alphas everywhere.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Stiles said, grinning, bringing up the hand that didn’t feel permanently attached to the surprsingly soft counter-paw. “Tell me if you want me to stop, okay? No hard feelings.” Heh, hard.

But Derek didn’t say anything and when Stiles brought their lips together, their fingers still intertwined between them, all Derek managed where a few choice moans, and a playful bite to Stiles’ lower lip.

They’d had worse days, and besides, as soon as they were ready to look around, they had some monsters to save.


End file.
